The Last Limit
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About this ebook
One day a wealthy, noble Arab lady and a young girl from Europe meet at the crossroads of fate and fall in love with each other in spite of all the conventions of the society. They walk through the ancient cities of Morocco and have fun at fashionable parties in Italy, enjoying their happiness. But gradually they realize that the feeling that binds them is so huge that it cannot be rationally explained. A couple of months later, they tragically die. There must be the end of a usual story. But for our characters, this is only the beginning of an amazing journey that will completely change your idea of life and death.
It is a mystical story in the spirit of Paulo Coelho, a mixture of high love, lesbian eroticism, the fragrances of distant countries and deep esotericism, written in a simple, lively style.
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The Last Limit - Aliona Sadovnikova
The Last Limit
Aliona Sadovnikovа
Distributed by Smashwords
Chapter 1.
Morocco, 2016.
She was sitting on a bench in the middle of a bustling Arab city. The noisy crowd was in a hurry to get somewhere. The sun was beating down mercilessly, although it was only early April. Somewhere in the distance, the muezzin began to sing. Aromas of spices, the sounds of the bazaar, the men who kept darting dirty glances at her, women in the hijabs hurrying for the shopping seemed to be merged into a single stream. Some kind of mist came down on the head of Emilia. She was alone in this strange Eastern world and had no one to help her. She closed her eyes. Where should she go? She felt too weak to move.
'Are you okay?' suddenly she heard someone's distinct voice over her ear.
Emilia opened her eyes. A woman of about forty was standing near her, smiling friendly. 'She must be a French tourist,' thought Emilia.
'Thank you, I'm all right,' she forced out.
'Are you sure?'
And then Emilia burst into tears. The tears rained down her cheeks. 'It's so embarrassing!', this thought made Emilia shed floods of tears. The woman sat down on the bench beside her and started saying some words of consolation in French. Emilia barely understood the language and could not make out the words because of her sobs.
'What's your name?' the question was asked again.
'I don't speak French,' she replied in English, and reached for her bag, intending to leave.
'I speak English. And you are so beautiful!' sounded from the stranger's lips. Emilia was surprised.
'Thank you,' she said softly.
'What is your name and where are you from?'
'My name is Emilia, I'm from Lithuania.'
'What happened to you? Can I help you?'
Emilia looked in the face of the stranger. She could feel the warmth and some power in her brown eyes.
'I've had a trouble.'
And Emilia told the story of her coming to work as a teacher of English in Morocco. It all started rosy, but a month later, the school principal started to harass her. Having been refused, he kicked her out of her work and a rented apartment, finally promising to send a negative reference for her to all his friends.
'Oh, what a bastard!' said the stranger. 'There are many such men here, unfortunately. My name is Shaima, I live nearby.'
'Are you Moroccan?!'
‘Why? Don't I look like the one?' She laughed. 'Yes, I was born and grew up here.' Emilia looked at the interlocutrix in surprise. An elegant blouse, trousers, high heels, a delicate aroma of expensive perfume, a wave of perfectly laid chestnut hair. Local women do not usually look like that.
'So, you have nowhere to go? Do you want to stay with me?'
'But ...'
'You will not burden me at all, I have a large house.'
She smiled and took Emilia by the hand:
'Let's go!'
The rest was happening like a dream. They were walking holding hands around the city. Shaima turned to one street from the avenue, then to another. Emilia ceased to understand anything. The windows of the houses were shuttered, the linen was being dried on the balconies. Some quiet music sounded from somewhere. Shaima was leading her along with confidence, incidentally asking some ridiculous questions, laughing merrily and this drove Emilia into a state of trance. The road went up, they turned the corner again, and then a view of the sea opened before them, and there was a large fence from one side.
'We've come!' said Shaima, pushed some button on the phone and the gate opened. There was a four-story white stone mansion inside.
'Oh, come on, I live here!' She pulled stunned Emilia at her hand.
There was a tropical garden with a fountain on the territory. There were three expensive cars a little further away. 'What if I'm locked up